


Treasure Me

by cellard00rs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Horns, Inventive uses of a dragon's tail, M/M, Manipulation, Mash-up, Rimming, Shameless Smut, but he's in human form during the fricka frack, could be viewed as beastiality, like HARDCORE dubious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mash-Up/AU! Johnbo Watson has trespassed in Smauglock’s lair one too many times…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treasure Me

This was the third time Johnbo Watson had secreted himself into Smauglock’s lair.

The infamous dragon was well known throughout the land, swooping down from his mountains to wreak havoc amongst the populace. Johnbo, being a hobbit, should have steered clear away from such a creature. But there was something about the thrill of creeping into his cave undetected that spurned him onwards.

The first time he had done so, it had been on something of a dare. He had been sharing a drink with the local chaps and somehow they had gotten it into their heads that sneaking inside the dragon’s cave and carrying out a piece of treasure would be a lark. The chaps, wisely, ended up dropping such a ludicrous idea right out of their minds. Not Johnbo. The idea of adventure, the excitement of possible danger, was somehow strong inside him. So uncharacteristic for a hobbit yet there it was.

His heart had been pounding the entire time but somehow, somehow, he had managed a quick in and out, leaving the site with a bright, glittering gold coin for his efforts. That should have been the end of it. But somehow the mountain, the treasure, the _danger_ seemed to call to him and once more he trekked inside, leaving the second time with a beautiful jeweled chalice.

Now, this third night, he knew not what he would take but he knew that that didn’t matter. It never mattered. The treasures were merely trophies to remind him of this – this feeling, this exhilaration – this moment of tip toeing cautiously through the dark towards what had to be one of the most treacherous spots in all of Middle Earth.

The previous two times he had crept inside there had been no sight of Smauglock and, at first, this evening appeared no different. Piles and piles of treasure were littered about the cold, flat cave floor, scattered haphazardly as if unimportant. There were a few skulls as well, polished and picked clean and the first time he had entered – oh, how they had given him a fright! But now they seemed almost familiar. Friendly, ghastly grins encouraging him onwards as he stealthily picked his way through.

He cast his keen eyes about, trying to think of which treasure to take this time when he heard it. A low, heavy sound, a sort of bubbling like the noise of a large pot set to boil mixed with the rumble of a gigantic cat purring. He froze, fear filling him like icy water and then he could see through the darkness a set of piercing, glowing red eyes. A curl of orange flame licked the air, followed by a plume of smoke as a deep voice broke the silence, “What have we here? Why, if it isn’t my little thief…”

Johnbo swallowed thickly and thought to flee but the voice continued as if reading his mind, “You would do best to stay. It would be frightfully dull to chase after you. And we both know the outcome of such a fruitless endeavor.”

Johnbo inclined his head, “Fair enough.”

Smauglock’s eyes seemed to flicker and while Johnbo had had yet to see the great beast he somehow suddenly became aware of the fact that the dragon was…changing. He could not perceive it well through the shadows but he felt as if the large, unyielding force before him melted. Smauglock's eyes lost their red color, petering out and for a moment there was nothing but darkness.

Then another burst of flame appeared. It seemed to have a life of its own, moving by magical force to dance about the length of the cave, lighting several unseen torches, casting back all the darkness. Johnbo blinked at the unexpected source of light and it took a few moments for his eyes to adjust again. With light now available the gold and finery of the treasure was almost blinding and, what’s more, he could now clasp eyes on their owner.

But Smauglock was not a dragon – at least, he was not anymore. Instead a man stood before him. A naked man. Johnbo licked his lips in apprehension and found himself unable to look away in shame as he knew he ought. It was just…the man was beautiful. Gorgeous. Tall and slim and then there were the…features, the features that marked that he was not just any mere man. For one thing, crimson horns curved up through the dark hair atop his head, dark hair that seemed to shimmer and Johnbo came to recognize that his hair was so red as to appear black.

Second, there were his wings, smaller than that of a dragons but still an impressive span. These too, were crimson colored and they looked leathery, flapping now and again as if restless. Lastly there was his thick, crimson tail, the tip resembling an arrow head. The tail moved as if a snake, slithering about, prehensile and quick. His skin was pale save for his hands and feet, the skin right above the wrists and ankles giving way to the natural crimson of his form, all his fingers and toes sporting sharp, sharp claws.

All this there was but nothing drew Johnbo’s attention quite like his eyes. His eyes were such a stark contrast to everything else – so cool, so light – a clear, grayish blue. Those eyes were narrowed and Johnbo swallowed again, aware of the power and strength behind those eyes. They seemed to speak volumes but what they were announcing he did not know, save the fact that whatever it was made him shiver and shake down to the very center of his soul.

Smauglock walked closer to him and Johnbo once again became aware of the fact that the man – the dragon – the _creature_ was naked. Johnbo did his best not to focus on a certain trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, on what it led down to and instead focused on the dragon’s eyes. This somehow seemed worse. He switched to his lips, enticingly shaped, like a cupid’s bow and resolved to give up on looking at him entirely.

He settled his eyes on the floor and Smauglock chuckled, the sound having no humor whatsoever, “Does this shape not please you?”

“I…”

“It matters little, for this is the shape I have chosen to confront you in. Ah, my little thief…this marks the third time you have stolen yourself into my home. What did you think to claim this time? You have a coin, a cup…perhaps a crown? A sword? A necklace? I have plenty to spare and could care less for them. I take them because it is easily done and I am bored.”

“Bored?” Johnbo breathed, finally looking up and Smauglock, while certainly nowhere near as large as he would have been as a dragon, still towered over him.

“Hmm, yes. Monstrously so. All the humans, elves, and dwarves scurrying about like insects beneath me, easily decipherable – their motives, their hopes, their dreams and aspirations. And all of them dull. Dull and dreary. Even you, my little thief and yet…and yet you have given me more sport than most.”

Johnbo didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing. However, Smauglock had moved closer and was now only inches away. His tail swishing dangerously along the back of Johnbo’s knees and he found himself stiffening at the feel. Smauglock grinned but the expression sat oddly about his face, “However, you are a trespasser and must be appropriately punished.”

Johnbo felt a surge of adrenaline at the words and found himself breathless as he asked, “H-how?”

Smauglock’s tail began to coil around John’s middle, slightly overlapping itself, “While I do not value my treasures highly, I recognize their value. Therefore, you must offer me something of equal worth.”

“I…don’t have much money.”

“Typical. Like most lesser beings, you misunderstand me. Their value is based on how they were earned. The chalice you took, for example, was taken back when I was but a whelp. I received a broken wing for my trouble.”

Johnbo felt his skin break out into a sweat, “You’re…going break my arm?”

“Again, wrong. Hurting you in such a fashion would be vulgar and short sighted. Besides, while I loathe repeating myself, I told you, you did offer me some sport. As such, it would be unsuitable to hurt you. No, no, no…I am thinking of something more along the lines of a…pleasant exchange.”

These last few words were practically purred and the tip of Smauglock’s tail was now caressing Johnbo’s chest. Smauglock sniffed loudly, “You are handsome for a Halfling. And you are pure. I can smell it on you, the scent so like that of those sacrificial virgins they keep tossing at me.”

Johnbo’s eyes widened, “You…you want to-? You can’t be serious!”

It was as much an accusation as a question and the grin that had been trying so hard to fit on Smauglock’s face suddenly did so perfectly, “Girls are not really my area. One would think they would have learned that by now.”

“I…you-you can’t!”

“Why ever not?”

“Well…for one thing, I am not a dragon!”

“Inconsequential. In this form we are more than capable of intercourse.”

Johnbo tried another tactic, “Okay, well, for another you’re-you’re a…a man and I…I’m not-!” the words stuck in Johnbo’s throat, the denial that he was attracted to men but Smauglock overrode it, “Lies do not suit you, Johnbo Watson.”

“You…know my name?”

“Of course. I know all about you. You sneak into my cave not for treasure, not for fame, not for anything more than the danger. The skittering, pulse pounding danger and if danger is what you crave I shall be more than happy to oblige you and in a way far more satisfying than any of your previous encounters, those in which you waltz out of here with nothing more than some glittering, insignificant bauble.” 

Johnbo exhaled, trying to focus, the dragon’s tail peeking now and again between the buttons of his light green shirt as it continued to rub at his chest,. He knew he should have worn a jumper. More protection. What was his mind babbling about? What did it matter what he wore! He was being propositioned! By a dragon! A dragon in the guise of a man of all things and Johnbo began to struggle.

Smauglock tutted and his tail’s grip tightened marginally, “There’s no need for that. Struggling. It’s futile and unnecessary.”

“You’re threatening to-to have you way with me! I think it very necessary!”

Smauglock’s tail rose upwards much the way one would extend their arm and as it did so it drew John with it, causing his toes to float above the ground. Smauglock looked deeply into his eyes, “You owe me, my little thief. The price to pay is dear, yes, but not as distasteful as you make it out to be. You see, I could take you. I could tear you apart in any manner of my choosing but where would the fun be in that? No, I would much rather have you _want_ it.”

Smauglock drew him closer, his hot breath brushing his face, “I want you to want me. I want you begging, crawling, crying out…I want you so lost with lust and pleasure at my hands that you can’t even string one coherent thought together. I want you to forget your name, your existence, your very soul – I want to transform you into a mindless, writhing, needy thing as I take you again and again and again. You wanted danger, Johnbo Watson, and what is more dangerous than being fucked by a dragon?”

Johnbo’s eyes had grown half lidded as Smauglock had spoken and when he answered he did not even sound convincing to his own ears, “I…no. No…no, please…please, don’t…”

“Shh, shh,” Smauglock whispered, his tail slowly lowering Johnbo back to his feet, “There, there…you’ll love this…oh yes, you will. I will make you. This I swear…”

Johnbo seriously doubted it as Smauglock hands cupped his face, claws delicately stroking his cheeks, “Where shall we start, I wonder? Perhaps something simple. Something to…ease you into the proceedings.”

Johnbo’s throat was constricted and he licked his dry lips. Catching the movement Smauglock hummed, “Ah yes, a kiss…very well.”

Smauglock’s head tilted to one side as he brought his lips to Johnbo’s. His mouth was so hot, pressing and demanding, his lips imparting a message of such lurid desire that Johnbo fairly wilted from the heat. He tried turning his head to escape but Smauglock followed the movement, angling his head more intimately over his. The pounding of Johnbo’s heart increased to a deafening roar, and he whimpered in instinctive fear. 

Undeterred, Smauglock licked gently as his mouth, tongue tenderly outlining the shape of his lips, teasing corners; sensually nibbling and Johnbo could feel himself wavering, curiosity and propriety waged in a heated battle in his mind.

Smauglock’s lips rubbed along his own and when the dragon spoke his voice was deep, “Relax…open your mouth for me, my little thief. Let me taste you…”

Johnbo moaned, his resolve finally breaking as his mouth dropped open slightly allowing Smauglock access. After all, what could one little kiss hurt? Johnbo was still resolved in trying to get out of this mess. There was no possible way he could…could mate with a _dragon_. The very idea was absurd. Perhaps once Smauglock kissed him he would be disinclined to continue or, better, perhaps Johnbo’s mind would finally work and he would think of a way out of this.

The latter proved to be completely impossible as Smauglock’s tongue invaded his mouth, tasting him with his tongue, obliterating all conscious thought. The subtle hint of something akin to a smoky brandy flavored Smauglock’s sleek, warm mouth and there was something else, some intimate essence that lured Johnbo strongly. 

He eventually found himself relaxing against Smauglock’s hard body, accepting the tender ravishment of his kiss, even answering the exploration of his tongue with timid touches of his own. So compelled was he that he reached out to touch him, hands stroking the smooth, hard nape of Smauglock’s neck, fingertips brushing against thick short locks of hair. 

Smauglock seemed intensely affected by his touch, his breath puffing like steam on Johnbo’s cheek, his pulse hammering in the soft place beneath his jawbone. Johnbo managed to draw away just enough to catch his breath, the first word out of his mouth a shaky whisper, “Oh…”

He spoke in the fevered hope that maybe words would somehow contain the sensations that continued to spill through every nerve ending in his body but all he could manage was another weak, “Oh…” 

Johnbo found that there seemed to be an almost insidious delight in being held against Smauglock’s hard, sheltering body and when the dragon’s lips brushed the rim of one of his pointed ears, softly and entreatingly, Johnbo found breathing to be more difficult.

He turned his head, just a small movement, but it brought his mouth against the burning heat of Smauglock’s once more. The dragon possessed him again, this time with slow drugging kisses and Johnbo surged against him in an awkward movement, wobbling on his toes as he tried to press himself deeper into the hard cradle of Smauglock’s body.

Smauglock released a dark chuckle as he steadied him, one arm sliding around his back, the other locking around his hips as the searching kisses became deeper, more sensuously aggressive and Johnbo answered helplessly while for some reason the sensation of being held in such passion made his eyes sting and water.

A few tears leaked from the outside corners of his eyes to slide down his trembling chin while he continued to respond to each kiss with a sort of desperate yearning that he couldn’t begin to control. Smauglock’s gentle fingers slid to his cheeks and felt the wetness there. He slowly withdrew, breaking their kiss and when he spoke he did so over the wet surface of the hobbit’s skin “Now, now…no need for that.”

Johnbo’s arms wrapped themselves more firmly around Smauglock’s neck and he buried his face against the dragon’s chest. He became acutely aware of the fact that the body pressed against his own was naked and aroused, Smauglock’s erection crudely rubbing against his trousers. His momentary hysteria was beginning to die away and when he spoke the husky timbre he heard was unrecognizable, “I don’t know why that happened…sorry.”

“It was your consent.” Smauglock explained, his hands stroking Johnbo’s back, “You’ve given yourself over to me, as well you should. Now hold tightly to me.”

Johnbo’s arms tightened as Smauglock’s arms locked around him and his wings began to flap. Johnbo’s eyes sealed shut the moment he felt them lift off the ground. He didn’t know where they were going but he had never been one for heights and with everything else going on he found that he didn’t want to lapse into madness.

They flew a short period, obviously relocating to somewhere else in the cave and once Johnbo was back on his own two feet he opened his eyes. Smauglock gently unhook the hobbit’s arms from around his neck and turned him so that he could see where he had been taken.

A grand bed stood before Johnbo. It was a massive four poster with gold and dark wood trimmings. The mattress was made over in silk sheets and pillows and Smauglock sighed, “This overly elaborate monstrosity was also taken early in my youth. It now misses the key competent for which I took it, as a young princess had been sleeping on it at the time. Still, much like you I keep my trophies…”

Johnbo blinked and quickly decided not to ask what happened to the princess. Instead he turned only to find that Smauglock’s tail was wrapping around his middle once more, yet again lifting him into the air. The tail drew Johnbo close to Smauglock’s hands, which rose up to stroke Johnbo’s hips soothingly. The tips of Smauglock’s red claws proceeded to dance along Johnbo’s trousers and the sound of ripping fabric rent the air. Johnbo winced, anticipating the pain of his skin being shredded to ribbons right along with his clothing but the dragon was bizarrely careful, making sure to only destroy the cloth barrier between them and nothing more.

Soon Johnbo was clad only in his modest green shirt, his suspenders resting loose and ruined on his shoulders, his bottom half completely exposed to the open air and he found himself blushing. He felt so…naked. The dragon could see his hairy legs, his backside, his manhood…all of it. His hands instinctively went to cover his nudity but Smauglock’s tail tightened around his middle once more, preventing the movement.

The dragon inspected him with his cool, blue gray eyes and while Smauglock attempted to appear unaffected, Johnbo caught the slightest tick in his jaw as his gaze flickered over him, lingering over his cock.

Johnbo liked to think himself modest to a fault, but even he could admit he was an impressive size and length for a hobbit. The dragon must have thought so as well because he nodded to himself before lowering Johnbo to the ground, the tail uncoiling from around him even as his hands rose to push aside the tattered remains of his suspenders.

His tail, almost like a faithful servant, plucked up the destroyed clothing and moved it to one side as Smauglock started pushing Johnbo back towards the bed. Johnbo sat down and the dragon smiled at him, “Rest a moment.”

The dragon turned towards one of his many piles of treasure. The sound of him digging through the collection was predictably loud as metal pieces clanked against one another. Johnbo looked around the small alcove noticing that the bed seemed to be surrounded on all sides with mountains of treasure. A rich, copper smell suddenly filled the air and Johnbo winced at it. He looked at Smauglock who still had his back to him.

The dragon appeared to be doing something but it was hard to tell what and when he turned back to Johnbo he seemed innocuous enough. He held a cup in both hands. His tail too, held a cup and when he walked over the tail placed its cup near the bedside. Smauglock held out the cup he had in his hands to Johnbo, “Here. Drink this.”

Johnbo eyed it warily, “Wh-what is it?”

“It is something to help you relax.” Smauglock offered silkily and Johnbo hesitated. He didn’t want to drink whatever mystery concoction was in the cup but he knew there was really no way out of the predicament. He took the cup and tried a tentative sip.

He let out a pleased hum. It was actually quite good. It reminded him starkly of elvish wine and he found himself taking deeper drafts of it. Smauglock’s tail swished, his fingers steepling together as he added, “It should also give you the stamina of a dragon. It will also make your…refractory period much shorter.”

Johnbo, who had just finished the drink, dropped the cup in his astonishment, “It-it-what?”

Smauglock grinned evilly, “I told you, Johnbo…I intend to take you. Again and again and again…”

Johnbo’s eyes widened and he felt his cock stir. He wondered if the drink didn’t also have something that would exacerbate his level of arousal and once more Smauglock seemed to read his mind, “Oh no, I do cheat, but not in that regard. No, the pleasure, the excitement you feel will be all your own. The drink merely makes you capable of climaxing more than once. And that is what I want. I want to make you peak…over and over. I want you to mate with me as dragons mate with one another. We can be quite…insatiable…”

Johnbo felt as if he would faint. Instead Smauglock brushed his shoulder with one hand in an almost consoling gesture, “Turn over, my little thief. Rest on your belly.”

Johnbo wanted to protest, a faint yammering in the back of his mind telling him that he had promised himself a way out of this, but he could think of nothing. He felt powerless and lost and he resolved himself to the idea that there was no possible way the dragon could enjoy this.

He spoke of mating with Johnbo like a dragon but Johnbo was _not_ a dragon. And no drink could make him such. Smauglock had spoken earlier of being easily bored. Perhaps he would grow bored of this quickly? 

Johnbo buried his face into one of the pillows and felt his breath hitch as Smauglock crawled over him. He felt gentle hands push up his shirt and he realized with some surprise that Smauglock must have retracted his claws. Indeed, the touch on him now held none of the sharp edged danger of before, warm palms and long, spidery fingers like that of any mortal. He felt them work along the muscles of his back and his spine and Johnbo wasn’t sure how to react to the fact that he was merely being caressed, even massaged, of all things.

However strange a circumstance it was, Johnbo could not deny that it felt heavenly. Tired, sore muscles being worked over and he felt his tension ebbing away, body melting like butter. Then as if to contradict all their hand work, the fingers suddenly changed, claws once more extended, sharp tips gracing lightly over his flesh and then Johnbo felt hot breath at the top of his spine.

Johnbo gasped as wet, heated kisses were placed there and then cried out as a stinging sensation took him by surprise, Smauglock’s mouth latching on hard, sucking and biting. Johnbo instinctively tried to buck him off but the gentleness from before seemed to have vanished as the dragon bore down on him. Johnbo swore he could feel fangs sinking into him, piercing and unrelenting, and he felt more tears escape his eyes as he resorted to crying out, “No! Stop! Stop!”

Smauglock did as he asked, his tongue tracing the spot he’d marked and Johnbo gasped at the surprising pleasure that coursed through him. It was akin to a balm being applied to a wound, the sweet relief, and he became aware of a sticky trail coursing down his neck. The fingers of one hand pressed to it and drew back and he saw the unmistakable stain of blood.

Smauglock took that hand and drew the fingers into his mouth, his tongue circling the tips, cleaning them and Johnbo moaned. Smauglock spoke against his wet digits, “Don’t act so fragile. It’s unbecoming.”

“You hurt me!”

“Only a fraction. I also healed you. Be grateful, most dragons are not so forgiving.”

“I don’t…why are you doing this? Why me?”

“Why _not_ you?” Smauglock whispered into the nape of his neck as he began licking at the spot he had bitten again. The tip of his nose glided along Johnbo’s back and he placed kisses along his spine, “I find mating with my own kind distasteful. There are not many of us left and the ones that remain are idiotic and tedious. Granted, almost everyone is an idiot, you included, but you at least have…well, I suppose the best way to put it would be to say you have a sense of adventure.”

Johnbo didn’t have time to feel insulted as Smauglock had reached the dip of his lower back, his tongue circled obscenely there making him shiver, so much so that he only vaguely became aware of the fact that Smauglock’s tail had begun to wrap itself around his middle once more, lifting him ever so slightly. Smauglock tongue licked back upwards in one smooth, straight stripe before he drew away and took hold of one of the pillows near the top of the bed. He positioned it beneath Johnbo’s hips, his tail drawing away and Johnbo started to realize he was being positioned, his arse slightly raised, tilted up and he felt his throat constrict, with what he didn’t know. Fear? Anticipation? Both?

His mind returned to panic mode, gibbering and shouting, demanding that he beg for release, for mercy, that he didn’t really want to do this because he had never done this before. Up until now the incredible improbability of everything that had happened (and happened so quickly) had overridden his good sense, but now, propped up like this, he became starkly aware that this was _real_ and going to happen and that he had to stop it.

“Smauglock,” Johnbo breathed, recognizing that this was the first time he had spoken the dragon’s name, “I’ve…never…done this before. I can’t possibly satisfy you.”

Johnbo couldn’t see Smauglock’s face but he could hear the amusement in his tone, “But you’ve already satisfied me, my little thief. Your tears, your fear, your fight against your mounting lust…it has all been quite diverting. We’ve come much too far to stop now. As I said earlier, you owe me. I will take your purity, your innocence, but as I promised, you will enjoy it. Better, you will cry out for _more_.”

With that Smauglock’s hands started caressing his legs, rubbing his calves before drawing away only for Johnbo to feel the brush of lips against the back of one of his knees. His first reaction was a startled laugh after which he immediately stilled, afraid of inciting the dragon’s ire. But Smauglock did not seem affronted. Quite the opposite, as Johnbo could feel him smiling against his flesh, his tongue starting to sweep there and Johnbo found his laughter giving over to disquieting sounds of pleasure.

He would never have thought the back of his knees to be so…erogenous. But as Smauglock peppered kisses from one to the other he found himself growing restless. He wanted…something. He didn’t know what and so couldn’t vocalize it, but the muted gasps coming from him must have signaled Smauglock because he drew away, his hands now stroking up and down the entire length of him, once more reminding Johnbo of how much smaller he was – short and stocky - and even in human form Smauglock easily blanketed him, tall and lithe, and for the briefest of moments Johnbo felt a deep dissatisfaction with his own looks in comparison.

“Ridiculous.” Smauglock breathed, once more so innately aware of Johnbo’s thoughts that the hobbit couldn’t help but ask, “Can you read minds?” 

“No, amongst my many skills that is one that I do not possess. You are simply easy to read.” Smauglock’s grip now settled on Johnbo’s buttocks, one hand upon each firm cheek, claws biting in gently as he asked, “How do you feel?”

“I…dunno…”

“Relaxed?”

“Suppose so.”

There was a resounding silence and Johnbo suddenly felt his skin prickle, sweat starting to form as anxiety settled in. He couldn’t see Smauglock’s face but somehow, somehow, he felt he had not only made a glaring confession but that the dragon was absurdly pleased that he had. He could not see him but he knew the dragon was most likely wearing a self-satisfied expression. He imagined the glint in his wicked eyes as his hands moved, parting his arse cheeks, opening him, exposing him, and when Johnbo felt the brush of breath against his hole he thought of renewing his struggle for freedom.

As if sensing this, the claws bit down harder and Johnbo winced, pain distracting him and then thought was completely impossible because Smauglock’s tongue was touching his entrance, pushing inside, lapping at him, circling and _pressing_ and it was insane, insane…

Johnbo buried his face back into the pillow beneath his head and moaned wantonly into it, the sound muffled and as desperate as he felt. He would have never, in a million years, have thought of such an act. He was aware of sex and how it worked – but this, this…

It was obscene, utterly filthy and unbearably erotic. Johnbo’s first real sexual experience…and it started like _this_. The dragon seemed as though he would be content to stay there forever, the point of his tongue working over him, moving languidly along the crack and in and out of the sensitive ring of muscle, savoring each shocked, blissful sound that worked its way out of Johnbo’s mouth. 

Johnbo could feel his length, hard and aching, wedged beneath him, resting uncomfortably between his belly and the pillow under his hips. It took all of his willpower to not start rutting against the bed, the need for friction becoming close to excruciating. His entire body was covered in a light sheen of perspiration and an unmistakable wetness was growing beneath him.

It got to such a fevered pitch that he couldn’t help himself, voice cracking as he pleaded, “Smauglock…please…”

Air puffed against his damp skin, “Yes?”

“I-I need…”

“What? What do you need?” The words were purred with such delight that Johnbo wanted to curse. But only momentarily, his thoughts focused solely on his bodily desires as he arched back and, oh! Yes! Finally some blessed, blessed friction but the dragon suddenly pushed his hands down hard on Johnbo’s hips, pinning him, making him immobile and Johnbo couldn’t stop the whine of despair that escaped him.

Now the purr became a growl, “Tell me what you need! Ask for it. No, better yet, _beg_ for it.” 

“S-Smauglock…”

“I will give you what you wish, Johnbo…all you have to do is beg…”

“No, no, no…” Johnbo chanted in soft anguish.

“Are you ashamed, hobbit? Is that it?”

That was exactly it and before Johnbo could even think of a way to say so, Smauglock’s mouth went to the nape of his neck, sucking warmly on the skin there, “Yessss…I like your shame. Oh, but you do please me greatly, Johnbo Watson.”

Johnbo felt his eyes sting again when he unexpectedly felt Smauglock’s body press fully against his own, the dragon covering him as he sighed, “Is this better? You would rather we rest here, comfortable and secure like lovers? No more fire, no more heat, no more passion…”

“I…” Johnbo’s throat worked, “N-no.”

“No?” the dragon asked with the sort of patronizing tone that set the hobbit’s teeth on edge as he snapped, “No! You-you know what I want…”

“Do I?”

“Yes!”

“Perhaps, but again you must-”

“Oh, for the love of-! I want you to-to f-f-fuck me.” Johnbo stumbled over the obscenity but it was obviously the right thing to say because Smauglock suddenly drew away and flipped Johnbo over so they were face to face. His jaw clenched as he snarled, “Beg!”

Johnbo let out a strangled sound and Smauglock answered with his claws trailing over his chest, sharp tips flicking against his nipples and the hobbit couldn’t help himself, words leaving him without thought, “God! Yes! Yes! Please!”

“Please what?”

“Pl-please, please, Smauglock. Please, please, _please_ f-fuck me.”

“Say it! Say it and mean it!”

“Fuck me!” Johnbo nearly wailed and Smauglock was upon him, savage and unhinged, his mouth latching on to where his neck met his shoulder and once more there was the painful nip of fangs and Johnbo writhed beneath him, struggling like a trapped animal. The dragon found his wrists, drew them above his head and held him down as his mouth continued to bite and when he drew back Johnbo saw that all of his teeth sported pointed little ends, blood painting his lips.

He licked them and the blood vanished as did the points to his teeth. He then licked at the spot he had marked and once again Johnbo felt cool relief as the dragon yet again healed the bite he’d inflicted, lips dragging along his skin, “Yes, the fire in you…that’s what I like to hear, not the sad sniveling. You have the blood of a dragon in you, Johnbo, no need to fight it.”

Johnbo didn’t know what that meant but for some reason it filled him with dread. It made him think of the cup he had consumed earlier, the scent of copper beforehand, but he had no time to contemplate it because Smauglock’s mouth was now gliding wetly down to one of his nipples. His tongue brushed flatly against it before trailing over to the other and then back again. He switched between the two of them steadily increasing his attention upon them until he was sucking and nipping the hardened peaks and Johnbo’s hips were thrusting upwards, his still neglected cock throbbing as he grunted, “I…begged you, begged you…please, please…”

“Yes, yes, you begged me, my little thief. You begged me and now I answer. I could just fuck you, true, but there is so much more you’ve never experienced before, isn’t there? So much you have to learn…to feel,” as he said this, Smauglock slid his body downward, his head hovering near Johnbo’s cock, mouth above the precome-beaded tip.

“Ahhh, little jewels…” Smauglock remarked and his tongue swiped out, wiping away any trace of fluid, making Johnbo’s breath catch as he squirmed against the alien feeling. This sexual act he certainly knew more about but he had never thought to one day receive it under such circumstances, much less from such an individual.

One of Smauglock’s hands rose up; claws retracted as he took hold of Johnbo’s length and languidly stroked him. Johnbo shuddered at the feel of those long, elegant fingers wrapped around him and it took all of his resolve not to start bucking up into the touch, even more so when Smauglock’s other hand found his already taunt balls and gently fondled them.

Still, while his touch was wonderful, Johnbo found himself eager for more of his tongue and, much to his own surprise, was emboldened enough to say so albeit haltingly, “I…would you…I want…that is, I want you to-to take me into your-your mouth.”

Smauglock regarded him with something so akin to rapture that Johnbo felt his cheeks flush. Smauglock’s hands started running up and down the length of his thighs, “Indeed?”

“Yes...I,” Johnbo searched his mind and felt his blush grow worse as he whispered; “I want you to-to suck me.”

Smauglock let out a noise that Johnbo took to be a hum of approval, “Very well. Guide me.”

“Sorry?”

“I will do as you ask. In fact, I welcome your command. I want you to spill into my mouth, I want you to shoot down my throat but first you must show me how.”

“How?”

“Yes, how do you want it, little hobbit? Slow and sweet? Fast and rough? Ease yourself between my lips…”

Johnbo’s mind struggled momentarily before, somehow, light seemed to break through and he understood. He took hold of his own cock and the moment he touched himself, oh, how he wanted to stroke himself to completion. But he knew better. Instead he guided himself into Smauglock’s mouth. The dragon looked up at him through his eyelashes and it was obvious that he enjoyed Johnbo’s interpretation of what he had said. Even more so when, once the hobbit was in his mouth, Johnbo’s hands moved to Smauglock’s head, fingers curling in the dark hair and tugging lightly, urging him to move up and then down and then up again.

Smauglock started bobbing his sleek head and Johnbo had expected the dragon to approach this act with some level of sophistication or technique but instead found it to be something else entirely - hot and wet and wild; Smauglock’s tongue was everywhere on his cock, tracing the thick vein of the underside, curling about the head, easing into the slit and Johnbo’s fingers were now close to tearing at his scalp, hands finally taking hold of his horns and gripping them so tightly he worried momentarily about hurting him.

But Smauglock gave no indication that it did and, what’s more, seemed to sink further down on his length to the point where the tip of his nose pressed against the crush of hair above Johnbo’s shaft and the hobbit moaned with reckless abandon. He couldn’t fathom how the dragon was not gagging and then he felt hands around his hips, urging movement and a keening sound started deep in the back of his throat as his hips began to pump upwards. It was all too much. The sweet slick slide, the heat, the realization that Smauglock was essentially swallowing his entire length...

Johnbo had been spiraling so gradually towards his climax that when it struck it nearly blindsided him. He was incoherent, past speech, past thought, past sanity. All his being was centered below and with a ragged cry, he felt himself coming wetly down Smauglock’s throat as one long endless implosion seemed to lead into the next and he wondered if it would ever end or if he would merely dissolve into madness as he trembled uncontrollably.

Eventually the shocks seemed to subside and Smauglock slowly released his sticky, spent length into the open air. Johnbo gradually became cognizant of the fact that he was still clutching to Smauglock’s horns and he carefully unhooked his hands from them as he fell bonelessly back against the bed.

“Mmm, my treasure, how sweet you taste.” Smauglock murmured as he started dropping short kisses all over Johnbo’s tingling body, “And we’ve only just begun…”

Johnbo’s mind drifted back to him at those words and he started sputtering at the very idea, finally managing, “What can we possibly do now?”

The look he received was unmistakably sinister as Smauglock took hold of one of his wrists and guided his hand downwards, making his fingers brush along the dragon’s arousal, “My own needs have yet to be met.”

Johnbo’s eyes widened and he was instantly flooded with a variety of different emotions. There was the bizarre sense of guilt at the knowledge that he had selfishly achieved his own release without any thought to his partner, there was the disbelief at the very idea of the dragon being considered his ‘partner’, and lastly there was the rise of anxiety at the thought of even attempting to address Smauglock’s needs.

Thus far Smauglock had insisted that Johnbo’s inexperience was what drew him but surely this could be nothing but a deterrent going forward. Johnbo had no idea what to do or even how to begin and as he started racking his brain Smauglock smiled and rose to his feet. He bent down and took gentle hold of Johnbo’s wrists, tugging him upwards, “Rise.”

Slowly Johnbo came to stand, legs shaking and he was quite positive he would have collapsed as a quivering heap on the floor if not for Smauglock’s hold. Smauglock sat on the edge of the bed, tail primly raised. Once comfortably seated his tail skirted off towards one side of the bed and found the stem of the cup it had carried over earlier, drawing it close. He rested the cup near his feet and peering down Johnbo could see that it was filled to the brim with some amber colored oil.

He licked his lips at the sight, his mind racing as to what that was going to be used for. Seeing as he was distracted, he did not notice that Smauglock had released his wrists to let his arms fall back to his sides, the dragon’s hands now going for the much abused pillow from earlier. He tossed it down to the floor near Johnbo’s feet, “Kneel.”

Johnbo obeyed the directive, wobbling knees more than relived to kneel upon the now cushioned floor. He was positioned between Smauglock’s knees and Smauglock cupped his face once more, peering down into it. The dragon’s expression was indiscernible but Johnbo steeled himself to not look away, meeting his eyes dead on and after a time the dragon broke, one of his thumbs running along Johnbo’s bottom lip, “Such a lovely mouth…”

Johnbo felt his breathing grow heavier at that heady statement and he suddenly knew exactly what Smauglock wanted. He willed his hands not to quiver as he raised them to the dragon’s knees and parted them. It seemed silly to be intimidated by this but considering he had never done it before he didn’t judge himself too harshly.

The sight before him was daunting. The dragon’s cock was full and gloriously hard. It stood rigid, the tip just brushing against his stomach. Johnbo contemplated it quietly for a few moments before Smauglock’s hands left his face to tangle into his hair, gently pushing his head closer. Taking the hint, Johnbo tentatively grasped his erection and brought it away from where it rested to his lips.

His eyelids lowered as he enveloped the tip of Smauglock’s cock in his mouth and when his tongue touched him, the dragon’s hips jerked. Johnbo felt the glow of triumph and then, as he started to take in more, as he heard Smauglock release a hiss of ecstasy, he realized he felt powerful. Powerful in a way he had never felt in his whole life.

He could control a man this way, he could control _this_ man, this _dragon_ , and he glanced up to see that Smauglock was watching him as he licked and sucked him, his grayish blue eyes no longer cool but glittering with barely leashed fire, his fingers flexing in the hobbit’s hair. Johnbo let his eyelids fall as he brought his mouth down as far as he could over Smauglock’s length then he slowly pulled up, pursing his lips and sucking on the thick shaft as it withdrew from his mouth.

Johnbo heard him moan and Smauglock’s pelvis arched reflexively as the hobbit licked around the ridge below the velvety head. Much to his surprise, Johnbo found he enjoyed what he was doing. He enjoyed all of it - the feel, the weight, the taste – and, most importantly, the _power_ and he started earnestly stroking every inch with his tongue.

He was so consumed with his task he didn’t even notice when Smauglock’s tail moved around his hips and back, directing him, positioning him, and then the tip furled, becoming smaller and sleeker before dipping into the nearby cup, coating itself in oil before moving behind him, easing its way inside him. Johnbo gasped around Smauglock’s cock, the length momentarily falling out of his mouth as he reacted to the feel of the tail’s tip stretching him, teasing him.

His body involuntarily vaulted backward, moving with the unexpected intrusion, the action welcoming it instead of rejecting it, and the sound that left Smauglock could be described as nothing else but an approving growl, one that grew strained as Johnbo resumed his ministrations, his mouth and tongue once more working tirelessly over the dragon’s length.

But there was now a tension to Johnbo’s efforts, one part of his mind focused on the task at hand, while the other marveled at the feel of the tail exploring him, opening him, darting in and out, and then it began to surge deeper, deeper, deeper… _rotating_ …fuck…

Johnbo had been continuously moaning since the tail had first been introduced but as it flicked against his prostate the sounds changed pitch, becoming higher, frantic, and he wriggled in excitement, body damp and slick, throbbing almost in time with each groan that escaped Smauglock, who was as close to mindless as he. 

The dragon’s hips were moving rhythmically as Johnbo worked him and the sensuous liquid sounds of Johnbo’s mouth upon on his body seemed overly explicit in the still room. Suddenly Smauglock bucked, gasping, and tried to withdraw from Johnbo’s mouth but the hobbit wanted to feel his finish, wanted to be with him at his most vulnerable and so held on, sucking more strongly until a tangy warmth filled his mouth.

Johnbo dutifully swallowed everything, whimpering in disappointment when he felt the dragon’s tail leave him, but his disappointment was short lived as he was soon drawn up by a strong grip and pulled into waiting arms. He found himself crushed against a sweat slickened chest, Smauglock easing them to lay back against the bed, hands roaming all over his body, clutching at him. The dragon was muttering something under his breath, a threadbare chant, and Johnbo couldn’t make out the words. Instead he pressed one of his ears to the dragon’s chest and heard his mighty heartbeat ease from a wild tempo to something more manageable.

Johnbo distinctly became aware of the fact that he was hard once again and felt his face heat. Smauglock had not been lying. The drink did indeed shorten his refractory period. It was hard to believe – the dragon had literally meant it when he had said again and again and…

Smauglock suddenly drew away, sitting up, and Johnbo was astonished to see that the dragon too, was aroused. Smauglock, reacting to either his earlier thoughts, the shocked expression on his face, or both spoke with a black humor that tainted his every word, “Yes…again and again.”

He moved quickly, finding the cup with the oil, coating his fingers, then his cock and John watched, his heart pounding, something filling him and he was terribly alarmed when he realized it was growing exhilaration as he breathed, “You…how-?”

“I told you. Insatiable.” Smauglock said as he drew the hobbit over, supernaturally strong hands lifting him up, higher and higher, shifting and turning and suddenly Johnbo’s legs were over his shoulders, one ankle on either side of his neck and Johnbo could feel himself being lowered, hands on his arse, cheeks parted and then the silky blunt feel of the dragon’s cock against his entrance, easing in gradually, and he cried out.

“It’s alright…you can take it…I know you can…” Smauglock groaned, “Oh, yes…perfect. Wonderful. Gorgeous. So tight….”

“Smauglock!” 

“At last I’m inside you, Johnbo…and I haven’t even started. I’m going to take you – deep and hard and fast – I’m going to fill you, fuck you, just as you begged me to earlier. I’m going to pound into you relentlessly until both our needs are met. I’m making you mine, do you understand? _Mine_.” The last word was said with such vicious certainty that Johnbo felt his whole body quake and then, then, the dragon began to move, thrusting, and Johnbo could only release animalistic sounds, his body completely helpless to the sensations it was experiencing.

His hands fumbled outward, having nothing to catch on to, nothing to cling to, and then his eyes shot open, a sound perilously close to a sharp shriek leaving him as the dragon’s mouth closed over his bobbing erection. The dual sensation of Smauglock’s cock buried deep within him, hips pumping mindlessly upward, and Smauglock’s mouth insistently sucking downward on his aching cock was too much.

Falling back with his hands outstretched, he gave himself over with reckless abandon, his entire body coiling, growing hotter and tighter and reaching and the dragon was moving so fast and so deep and repeatedly hitting his prostate dead on while drinking him in and it was too much, too much…

The scream that escaped him was earsplitting and it seemed like a long time before Johnbo returned to any sort of reasonable consciousness. When he did, he was aware of the fact that his hands were weakly tugging on the ends of his shirt and, until this moment, he had completely forgotten he was even still wearing it. Once more the sound of ripping cloth rent the air and Johnbo became aware of the fact that his shirt fell away from him in tatters, leaving him entirely nude, cool air comforting him as it licked at his sticky skin.

Then he became aware of the fact that he was being repositioned, pushed and pulled, until he was on his elbows and knees, head hanging low between his arms and it felt like such a primitive position to be in. And then he felt Smauglock’s erection against the back of one of his thighs and stiffened, eyes widening.

How was that even possible? The dragon had come inside him just now, hadn’t he? Johnbo knew he had come, so the dragon must have…

But it was there, hot and hard and full against him, and Smauglock was behind him, audibly panting, “My little thief, my treasure…you’re mine, Johnbo Watson, say it!”

“Yours.” Johnbo managed weakly.

“Again!”

“Yours, yours, _yours_!” Johnbo wailed, voice hoarse, as Smauglock took hold of his cock and guided it to his still wet entrance, thrusting hard and deep and with an unbelievable amount of force. So much so that the bed beneath them groaned and squeaked in protest. In fact, Johnbo’s arms gave out momentarily. He caught himself, braced himself, before closing his eyes and simply feeling the strong slide of the length moving in and out of him. He gave himself over to the demanding pleasure, his heated cries growing more feverish and while he had only come mere moments ago he could feel himself gearing up again, reaching for another peak.

Smauglock’s tail entered the proceedings but this time, this time, it came around Johnbo’s front, brushing his nipples before going lower, finding his erection, coiling around it like a corkscrew and stroking him, caressing him, and Johnbo was positive he’d lost his mind, “Yours…Smauglock…yours…”

He felt his climax - could no longer hold out against - and it came over him with the force of a great wave, whiting out his vision, almost painful as jets of pleasure shot throughout him. Smauglock held him close, groaning against her ear, teeth scraping his earlobe, “Mine, Johnbo…forever…”

Johnbo couldn’t reply but it did not matter, the dragon’s eyes closed as he flung his head back and roared as his own release clamped down on him.

+

Johnbo did not know how long he slept but when he finally awoke he found he was resting on his side, Smauglock huddled up behind him, hands tenderly running along his still trembling form. Smauglock pressed gentle kisses into the nape of his neck, “Fine?”

Johnbo snorted, unsure of how to begin to even answer that question.

Smauglock spoke for him, “Johnbo, Johnbo, Johnbo…finally I have a treasure within my possession that has value.”

Johnbo frowned and worried his lower lip between his teeth, “I…don’t belong to you.”

The dragon merely laughed, “Oh, but you do, my treasure.”

“Smauglock…”

“It was agreed upon. Deviously, perhaps, but you are bound to me.” Smauglock said firmly and Johnbo felt a sinking suspicion inside him as he heard himself ask, “That…earlier, in that cup I drank you-you said it would give me stamina and make my,” he shook his head and jumped to what he wanted to ask, “What was in it?”

“You know exactly what was in that cup.” Smauglock replied smoothly, “You may not be terribly observant, but you know.”

Johnbo turned to face him, his mouth dry, “It…was your blood, wasn’t it?”

Smauglock propped himself up on one elbow, eyes looking over the hobbit appraisingly, “And if it was?”

“Then…that’s…gross?”

The dragon’s laughter was unexpected and smoky, “It raised your virility, making our extended mating possible, and, in many circles, it is considered a symbolic act of unification.”

Johnbo scowled, “I didn’t agree to that.”

“No? You claimed yourself as mine; you gave yourself to me.”

“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” Johnbo interrupted, crossed between being furious and being hysterical. Smauglock shushed him, hands gently stroking him, “Did you not enjoy our mating?”

“I…no, I _enjoyed_ it. Obviously I enjoyed it. But-”

“Was it not something you would wish to repeat?”

Johnbo nearly choked on his tongue at the very idea. The whole experience had been so mind blowing he was torn between wondering whether or not he could _survive_ a second round and demanding that they try again right this instant. 

This left him to merely making choking noises and Smauglock grinned smugly, “I rest my case. You are mine, Johnbo. My greatest treasure. The only one worth having.”

Johnbo recognize the compliment but still sulked, “You shouldn’t have tricked me.”

“You shouldn’t have stolen from me three times but here we are.”

“Okay, yes, but you stole my freedom! You’ve-you’ve bonded us together against my will, and-and made me your-your mate or treasure or plaything or-”

“All those definitions fit but I assure you,” Smauglock interrupted, tone casual, “you are free to leave whenever you wish.”

Johnbo seriously doubted that and, to prove it, he rose as if to leave. Smauglock did not react whatsoever, instead rolling onto his back, eyes closed as if to sleep. Johnbo looked at him, recognized how it would be so very, very dangerous to get back into that bed, to stay with him, to be with him…

So dangerous…

Johnbo sighed and got back into the bed, huddling up against him, “I hate you.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not what it sounds like.”

“Well, I do!”

“Are you sure it is not the exact opposite?”

“Yes!” Johnbo insisted but he knew how petulant and insincere he sounded, even more so when Smauglock hauntingly replied, “In time it will be, my treasure, it will be.”


End file.
